


For Whom the Bell Tolls

by Kingkiwi



Series: Affinities [2]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Bullying, Despite the title nobody dies!, Drama, First Meetings, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Pre-Slash, Protectiveness, Spells & Enchantments, Witches, Worldbuilding, tags are a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:59:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5421365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingkiwi/pseuds/Kingkiwi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yoongi’s failure to control his magic didn’t bother him overmuch. As a child, he decided that if magical control was so difficult to learn, he’d just ignore it. Unfortunately, this leads to the life of a loner and an outcast, until one day, a smiling boy hunts him down with lunch for two and a single demand. "Let's be friends!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Whom the Bell Tolls

**Author's Note:**

> I hated this when I started writing it, but after letting it rest for a month or so, I realized I had something I could work with. Let me know if I should have left it in its digital grave or if it was worth reviving!
> 
> There will be more to come in my magic universe, so hold onto your hats!

_There are many different affinities with which a witch can resonate: the more general the affinity, the more powerful the witch._

_The “Big Six” magical affinities are earth, water, fire, air, light, and dark._

_Light witches are also called day, good, white, and hope witches. Dark witches are also called night, shadow, and black witches._

 

 _“Oh look, it's that dark witch.”_

_“My mom told me dark witches are servants of evil. I wish he’d just leave._

_“Shh! He might hear you! Who knows what he’d do!”_

_“It doesn’t matter. He’s weak and has no control, so it’s not like he could do anything.”_

 

Even though Yoongi was born a witch and grew up in a magical household, he never felt like magic was essential. Convenient? Yes. But there were plenty of non-magical people out there who got along just fine without it. 

His sister, a low-powered wood witch, resented and made fun of him in turns for having an affinity with such great potential yet being completely unable to harness it. Being a child of the Big Six didn’t guarantee great power, but the nature of the affinities themselves meant that it was much easier to achieve. 

Yoongi’s failure to control his magic didn’t bother him overmuch. As a child, he decided that if magical control was so difficult to learn, he’d just ignore it. This made him an odd figure in his mixed witch and non-witch middle school. The non-magical kids were afraid of him because of his dark affinity, and the other witches made fun of him for his lack of control, their teasing words tinged with fear. 

Unfortunately this double whammy of being a dark witch and completely failing at one of the most basic magical skills meant that the sight of his meager lunch hurtling across the table and onto the floor at the beginning of his final middle school year was not a surprise. 

His only friend, Hoseok, transferred away at the end of the previous school year because his parents had to move. Now Yoongi was on his own, and as he stared at the milk creeping across the cafeteria floor, he figured he better get used to it. The boys who ruined his lunch were already gone. They didn’t even bother to taunt him; it was a hit and run followed by laughter and a lot of uncomfortable staring. 

Sighing, Yoongi scraped the remains of his food back onto the tray, tossed it, and escaped out the side door. The sun was beating down from a clear, blue sky, warming the dark brick of the school building. He slumped against the wall and closed his eyes to bask in the silence. Out here, no one whispered about him. He didn’t have to pretend to ignore the stares or worry about finding somewhere to sit that wouldn’t upset anyone. 

Laughter and shouts carried over from the basketball court around the corner. Yoongi used to enjoy a game of basketball after lunch or kickball in the back lot, but sometime near the end of elementary school, the other kids started avoiding him and nobody would pick him for their team. That’s when he started spending lunch and recess alone. This continued until he met Hoseok, but with the cheerful fire witch gone, Yoongi was back to his solitary school existence. 

His stomach grumbled. He only brought enough money for one lunch every day, so his stomach was just going to have to wait until he got home. Yoongi leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes.

It was going to be a long year. 

That is, if he even made it through the week. The lunch incident repeated itself every day until Friday, then started back up again on Monday. Yoongi stubbornly continued to bring lunch money, hoping that one day his tormentors would get bored and leave him to eat in peace. That had yet to happen. 

The spot in the grass behind the gym became “his spot.” The other students saw him retreat outside every day and started avoiding that side of the building. Yoongi was grateful that he had somewhere he could hide away. 

It was Tuesday when Yoongi escaped outside again, stomach growling so loudly it was a wonder they couldn’t hear it in the lunch room. The sky was pale and scattered with big, fluffy clouds that occasionally threw him into shadow. It was so relaxing that he unintentionally dozed off, half-slumped onto his backpack. 

The witch was pulled from his nap by the sound of the cafeteria door clanking. He jerked upright, thinking that the other kids had found some way to lock him out or block the door so he’d have to walk around the whole building to get back to class. Before he could push himself up to check, the door slowly opened and someone backed through, balancing a tray in his arms and trying to keep the door open with one foot at the same time. 

Yoongi watched with guarded curiosity as the boy carefully turned around and let go of the door, which swung shut and smacked him in the ass. He stumbled forward and almost dropped the full lunch tray, barely managing to stay on his feet and avoid losing anything. He straightened and beamed down at a skeptical Yoongi. 

“Hi.”

“…hi.”

The boy carefully set the tray in front of Yoongi and dropped down to sit cross-legged on the other side.

When nothing happened, the boy pushed the tray so it was about an inch away from the toe of Yoongi’s shoe. “Don’t be shy, dude. I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got one of pretty much everything. If you don’t help me eat it, I’ll just have to throw it away.”

His suspicion wavered slightly. The fresh fruit and seasoned chicken did look really good, and Yoongi didn’t even get a chance to eat breakfast this morning because he accidentally slept through his alarm. 

With a shrug, the stranger dug in, dragging the pizza slice and a bottle of water in his direction. “I’m Jimin, by the way,” he said, unscrewing the bottle cap. “I’m a vitality witch. You ever need an energy boost or some help healing, just hit me up.” Jimin smiled and laid into the pizza.

Yoongi eyeballed him and slowly reached out for the chicken. There was a chance this was another prank and all of Jimin’s kindness was just a ploy, but honestly, he was tired of being alone. Yes, he was quiet and liked to sleep, but that didn’t necessarily mean he desired solitude. 

He took a bite while watching Jimin from beneath lowered lashes. The other witch was focused on eating, but he glanced over every once and a while, as if checking that Yoongi was eating. 

Yoongi swallowed the delicious meat and had to stop himself from shoving the rest in his mouth. Being hungry was no excuse to act like a barbarian. Speaking of, it would be polite to introduce himself even though Jimin had to know who he was.

Still, it took a minute to muster up the courage. 

Jimin’s quick glances increased. He could tell Yoongi was working himself up to say something, but wasn’t sure what. 

Finally, Yoongi managed to give voice to the words. “I’m Yoongi, the-“

“Shadow witch,” Jimin finished, setting his pizza down. He was almost vibrating with excitement. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows who you are. You’re kind of famous around here.”

The shadow witch shrugged, but was secretly pleased. Jimin called him a shadow witch instead of a dark witch. Typically, he and others who shared his affinity used “shadow.” It was much more common to hear “dark” used by witch and non-witch alike, but “shadow” was actually preferred because it didn’t imply that those with that affinity were immoral, committed evil deeds, or were the opposite of the so-called “good” light witches. 

“I saw what those guys were doing to your lunch on Friday and yesterday,” Jimin told him in between bites. “I wanted to beat them up, but there were too many of them and I’ve never punched someone before, so I’d probably just hurt myself.”

Yoongi chewed silently.

Jimin rolled the water bottle between his hands. “But if you really want me to punch one of them, I can give it my best shot. I’m always up for trying new things.” He grinned.

“…what do you want from me?” Yes, Jimin was nice and thoughtful, but there was no conceivable reason for him to bring lunch or beat the other kids up, not for Yoongi. He hated that people whispered about him, but even he had to admit that some of it was true. He couldn’t control his magic very well. It could act out in unpredictable ways. 

“To eat lunch with you,” was the immediate answer. Jimin held out the half-empty water bottle. When Yoongi didn’t take it, he leaned over and set in on the grass next to the other witch’s leg. “And be your friend.”

Yoongi almost snorted. Fine. If this guy wanted to play it that way, Yoongi wasn’t going to stop him. Soon enough, Jimin would see what it meant to be friends with the reviled dark witch and he’d leave. 

He reached down, snagged Jimin’s water bottle, and took a swig. “Fine.”

Jimin beamed and pumped a fist into the air. “Alright!” He flopped over onto the grass and propped his head on his hand. “Just wait and see, Yoongi. Our friendship is going to be epic.”

“…right.” Deep down, he was still skeptical. Friendship wasn’t as simple as just declaring that it was now a thing. Friendship with Yoongi came with harassment, judging stares, and avoidance by almost all the other students. These thoughts churned in his head, undermining the happiness that came from Jimin’s declaration, but as he watched the other witch’s arm flop toward the lunch tray, Yoongi was glad to have a friend. He was determined to savor it because he knew it could never last. 

As the days turned into weeks, Yoongi’s grim prediction was proven wrong. 

Jimin followed him around between classes, insisting on walking home together, and bought lunch for the both of them every single day. Every whisper was met with a glare and Jimin wasn’t afraid to loudly talk about “those superstitious idiots who wouldn’t know the traits of the Big Six Affinities if it bit them in the ass.” He joked with Yoongi and made fun of him in turn, unafraid of the volatile magical powers he might accidentally trigger. 

Yoongi’s guard was slowly worn away. He learned to laugh and poke fun at Jimin. He stopped dreading the torture of lunch time and even began to look forward to spending that precious half hour in the sunshine with Jimin by his side. 

The boys developed a routine. Jimin always appeared minutes after Yoongi settled in his spot behind the school, conscientiously balancing a full tray while trying not to trip. After a few incidents, they devised a system where Jimin kicked the door once and Yoongi held it open. Then they settled into the grass together and wordlessly split the lunch based on their personal likes and dislikes, making sure to share the rice, water, and kimchi. Yoongi always cleaned up and dumped the tray since Jimin brought everything, and the pair walked to their next class together, thicker than thieves.

Honestly, Yoongi couldn’t remember a time when he was happier. He couldn’t even hear the whispers anymore. Of course, Jimin was always up in arms, glaring at everyone who so much as dared to glance in their direction, but the physical confrontations had almost stopped completely. Thankfully, the bullies hadn’t included Jimin in their harassment. 

Now, people waited until the vitality witch was gone, either before school or between certain classes, to knock Yoongi’s backpack from his hands or gossip about him. 

It made sense, then, that when Jimin didn’t show up for lunch one day, Yoongi was quite alarmed. Any time of the day involving food was Jimin’s favorite time, meaning he never, ever missed lunch. 

Jimin was at school today, something he knew for a fact. They’d parted right before third period with a fist bump. He didn’t seem sick at all, so unless something crazy happened, he had no reason to go home early. 

Yoongi sat, crushed up against the wall, and stewed for ten minutes. His appetite fled, leaving his vaguely nauseous with a volatile mixture of anger and worry. 

When he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he shoved himself to his feet, flung the side door open, and stalked inside, ignoring the stares and muttering that followed him. His usual tormentors didn’t approach, probably due to the shadows in his eyes and the impossibly deep ring of each footstep. 

_Jimin,_ his mind called. _Jimin, Jimin, Jimin. Where have you gone?_ Unbeknownst to Yoongi, his power echoed the call. 

Yoongi walked, hardly knowing where, until all the urgency drained like a plug had been pulled. Blinking, he glanced around, surprised to find himself in front of the nurse’s office. Not stupid enough to question the subtle workings of his unpredictable magic, he quickly slipped inside.

The nurse was nowhere to be seen.

“Jimin?”

A familiar voice answered almost immediately. “Yoongi? Is that you?”

Yoongi hurried through the front office and into the back room with the beds. He found Jimin immediately: he was in the first bed, sitting up against the wall. Half of his face was covered by an ice pack and the sheets were littered with tissues spotted with blood.

Yoongi’s breath caught. “What happened to you?” 

Jimin smiled ruefully and motioned for Yoongi to come sit next to him. “Well, remember when we first met and I said I’d never punched anyone before?” He flexed the hand not holding the ice pack. “Well, now I have.”

“What!?”

“But then he kind of punched me back.” Jimin lifted the ice pack to show the splotchy beginning of a black eye. His nose was smeared with dried blood. 

The shadow witch dropped onto the bed, crushing a few tissues. “Why?” he asked incredulously. Jimin was one of the kindest, most friendly people he’d ever known, so it was completely out of character for him to assault someone.

Jimin’s whole face darkened and he replaced the ice pack. “Believe me, he had it coming.”

And no matter what Yoongi said, Jimin wouldn’t say anything other than, “He had it coming,” or “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” So Yoongi abandoned his questioning and scooted up next to Jimin so they sat shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. He’d never been overly physically affectionate, but something about Jimin made it easy. 

The nurse didn’t return, so Yoongi felt no obligation to leave when the bell rang to announce the end of lunch, nor when fifth period started. After a while, Jimin’s head slid down to rest on Yoongi’s shoulder. They sat in silence.

Yoongi wasn’t actively trying to figure out what provoked Jimin, but all of a sudden it occurred to him anyway.

 _Me._

This wasn’t just him being conceited. Jimin offered to punch someone for him right after they met and now refused to explain his actions, probably so Yoongi wouldn’t feel bad about him getting hurt. The revelation made his head spin. 

He stared at the motivational posters on the opposite wall and wondered what he should say, if anything. It killed him that his only friend was hurt for his sake, because of him, but in the end, he couldn’t tell Jimin what to do. Not to mention there was a large part of him that was grateful Jimin cared that much. Really, there was only one thing to say.

“Thanks.”

The ice pack crinkled, but Jimin’s head didn’t move.

“You’re welcome.”

And right then and there, Yoongi promised that he would improve his magical control for Jimin’s sake. There would be no more teasing and no more whispers in the hallway. Jimin wouldn’t have to defend his besmirched honor by punching people in the face ever again. 

_I swear it._

The bell rang. Fifth period was over.

 

 _If a witch does not belong to one of the Big Six affinities, they will manifest a minor affinity. Minor affinities are more specific and limited in scope, but are associated with a parent Big Six affinity._

_Some of examples of minor affinities and their parents include: Tech (Fire), The Deep (Water), Weather (Air), Body (Earth), Seer (Light), Location (Earth or Dark), Wood (Earth), Crystal (Light), and Vitality (Water)._

_At a high level of training, witches with one of the Big Six can use magic from related minor affinities._

 

 _“Oh look, it’s that super weak dark witch.”_

_“I heard his power barely registered on the entrance test.”_

_“What a waste of a Big Six affinity.”_

_“I heard from someone that his control is terrible even though he’s weak.”_

 

As middle school slipped into high school and freshman and sophomore years at Southwick Magical Academy passed in the blink of an eye, Yoongi and Jimin remained epic best friends. 

Unfortunately, Yoongi’s infamous lack of control didn’t change either. Despite his promise and honest effort, the ability to rein in his power and shape it to his will remained elusive. 

A holdover from middle school, most of the kids at Southwick thought he had so little power that he couldn’t manifest it at all. Those he actually shared classes with knew better: his power was just so unpredictable that he might as well have none at all. His magic couldn’t be counted on for anything but acting up when it wasn’t supposed to. 

As the whispers zipped down the hallway, Jimin eyed the students around them and scowled. “You say the word, Yoongi, and I’ll make them shut up.” He’d taken Yoongi’s lack of reprimand after that first punch as permission to glare, bellow, and menacingly gesture at the other students.

Yoongi snagged his sleeve and tugged him closer as they walked down the hall. “Aren’t vitality witches supposed to be nice? Cause no harm, and all that?”

“Yeah, I’ll suck the vitality right outta them,” Jimin promised, shaking his fist in everyone’s general direction. “It’s not like I’m a doctor. I haven’t taken the Hippocratic oath.”

“Jimin, don’t get in trouble, please,” Yoongi sighed. All he really wanted was to go about their high school careers unnoticed and unremarkable, which meant not attacking the other students because of stupid gossip and typical teenage idiocy. 

The other boy shook his head. “They don’t have the right to talk about you like that. And the results of those tests are confidential.”

Yoongi couldn’t care less about the affinity tests and he told Jimin so. 

“Well, I don’t care either. It doesn’t matter to me if you’re a shadow witch or a weather witch. You’re fine just the way you are and anyone who says different can shove it.” This was accompanied by a punch in the shoulder that made Yoongi rock back onto his heels.

“Friendship punch. Thanks,” the shadow witch grumbled. 

The pair filed into their classroom for Intro to Magic. Yoongi garnered a few curious looks, but most of their classmates pretended they didn’t exist. Jimin glared at all of the gawkers, but Yoongi ignored them right back. If middle school had taught him anything, it was that it was too bothersome to get worked up over stuff like that.

The teacher arrived, dumped her books on the front desk, and started the lesson. Yoongi prepared himself for an hour of alternating between staring out the window and inspecting the back of Jimin’s head, a tactic to make time pass more quickly. What could he say? It was an interesting head. 

Unfortunately, Yoongi and Jimin parted after class and wouldn’t see each other again until lunch. Yoongi was off to Affinity Control. Jimin was in the regular class while Yoongi was relegated to the remedial session along with fifteen or so other students from a variety of grade levels. While he didn’t care for gossip, it didn’t mean the gossip wasn’t true. Yes, Yoongi’s test results categorized him as a weak dark witch with poor control, but he didn’t mind.

The man who taught remedial control was a strict, but generous and caring mentor. That attitude quickly made the small class feel like a little family. Yoongi only half-wished Jimin was with him, particularly since the other boy was the only person he talked to. He only half-wished, though. It was better that Jimin wasn’t in his class because control was his forte and purposefully flubbing that portion of the test just to keep Yoongi company would be stupid.

“Okay everyone, today we’re going to separate into groups based on affinity and take turns infusing charm ingredients with magical power,” Mr. Park announced. 

Small groups of air witches, water witches, two crystal witches, more than a few vitality witches, and various other affinities pulled together in different corners of the classroom. Only Yoongi and one other student remained alone. 

The other kid without a group was a Seer, which fell under the larger category of light affinity and specialized in farsight, fortunes, and visions. 

They made eye contact, the kind that acknowledged that they were both group-less and alone in their affinities, and then looked away.

Grunts of effort, laughter, and the occasional yelp soon filled the classroom.

Mr. Park checked in on all the groups’ progress before stopping by the Seer. After he got her on track, he came over to Yoongi’s desk. 

“Sorry about the wait there, Yoongi. How are we doing today?” he asked.

Yoongi looked down at the clematis roots spread out on a gray tray made of neutral material, then back up at Mr. Park. “Nope.”

Mr. Park frowned. “Nothing?”

The roots remained limp and pale, completely lacking any kind of magical aura. Yoongi shook his head. 

“Hm,” the teacher stroked his chin in thought. There was a loud crash behind them. “Let me check on everyone else before they kill themselves, then we can talk in depth and try to figure out why it hasn’t been working for you.”

As soon as Mr. Park walked away, Yoongi turned back to the roots and gave them a poke. No matter how hard he concentrated or tried to force the magic, it just wouldn’t go. He could visualize just fine and the magic that permeated the very air around him was malleable and ready. There was some kind of miscommunication or blockage when it came to getting the ambient magic to flow through him and into the roots. 

With one finger on the longest root, he closed his eyes, evened his breathing, and focused on gathering the abundant magic and forcing it down his arm, out his finger, and into the structure of the roots. His body immediately felt pinched and strained, like he was trying to squeeze through a pipe two sizes too small. The magic crackled through his hand in bursts, reminiscent a faucet rapidly flipping from a slow trickle to full blast.

“Yoongi! Yoongi! Let it go!”

The shadow witch’s eyes snapped open and he could suddenly smell both charred wood and the sweet scent of rot. The root beneath his fingertip was blackened in places, liquefied in others, with multiple whitish sections that were completely untouched. 

Mr. Park was standing right beside him, not touching, but with his hands at the ready. The teacher was a water witch, an affinity that was perfect for tempering and controlling other elements. Yoongi didn’t even have to look up to know that everyone else in the class stopped their exercises to stare at him. 

“Clean up your work stations and return to your seats,” Mr. Park ordered without turning around. The sound of shuffling and quiet chatter quickly filled the silence. “It’s okay, Yoongi. You’re quite good at illusions, when you put your mind to it. No one is great at every aspect of their affinity. We’ll work on it next time.”

Yoongi nodded, not comforted in the least.

The teacher continued. “I’ll clean this up. You go ahead and sit down. I have a few final announcements and then it’ll be time to go.”

“Thanks, Mr. Park.” Yoongi slipped back over to his desk and sat down without speaking to anyone. The bell would ring in five minutes for lunch and he would see Jimin again. His eyes moved with the second hand of the clock. The ringing bell sounded like freedom.

“Why do I feel like more people are staring at you than usual?” Jimin asked around a mouthful of apple. 

Yoongi shrugged. “I melted a clematis root during AffCon this morning.”

The vitality witch almost choked. “Melted it? How’d you manage that?”

The shrug returned. “No control.”

“Yeah, well I guess we already knew that,” Jimin had to admit. He finished off the apple in three loud bites.

 

 _Witches of all affinities typically specialize since certain skills come more naturally than others. The main abilities attributed to dark witches are concealment, memory, visual and auditory illusions, one-way energy transfer, and for elite witches, temporary shape-shifting and shadow control._

_The abuse of these abilities and their power over the mind has led to the common perception of dark witches as agents of evil and disruption, but just like any generalization, this only applies to a small segment of the dark witch population._

 

 _“He completely destroyed an affinity-compatible ingredient during practice.”_

_“Imagine if he tried to use magic on a person.”_

_“Either he’d kill them or nothing would happen.”_

_“No matter how much time he spends in remedial classes, his control never gets any better.”_

 

“Just leave them, Jimin. I don’t care.”

“Fine,” Jimin sighed, trudging up the stairs. “But if I hear one more whisper, I don’t guarantee anything.”

Yoongi trailed behind, rhythmically pushing his power into a specially made stress ball usually used to help elementary school children practice their control. Jimin hadn’t punched anyone since that one time, but it was close a couple of times. He forced more magic into the ball. 

He was so distracted that he almost ran into Jimin’s back when the other boy stopped abruptly on the landing.

“What the hell?” The vitality witch shuffled to the side so Yoongi could see that the entire landing was covered in a thin sheen of water. “Is there a leak somewhere?” He looked around, but Yoongi didn’t need to. This wasn’t the first time this particular trick had been pulled and it wouldn’t be the last.

He slid past Jimin, eyes peeled for the freezing charm that made turned the puddle from a maintenance problem into a prank. “Watch your step. They’ll freeze the water and it’ll send you right on your ass if you’re not ready for it.” 

“This has happened to you before?” Jimin demanded.

“That’s not really the point,” Yoongi countered. The freezing charm was nowhere to be seen. Even weirder, no one else came up the stairs after them. The upperclassmen were either guarding it or warned the other students beforehand. 

Jimin worked himself back into Yoongi’s space. “I think that’s exactly the point.” He was frowning in that serious way he had as he jabbed a finger into Yoongi’s chest. “How long are we going to put up with this shit? There’s nothing wrong with needing to work on your control or with being a shadow witch! Those jackasses need to get over their prejudice and step into the twenty-first century!”

Yoongi patiently pushed the finger away. “It doesn’t matter, Jimin.”

“Like hell it doesn’t!” Jimin practically yelled. “You might as well say that you don’t matter and don’t you dare agree with me because _I will hit you with the punch of friendship.”_

Yoongi was starting to think it was a good thing everyone else was avoiding this stairwell. Adding spectators to this situation would push even him over the edge. The bullying, if he had to call it that, didn’t upset him as much as it did Jimin, that much was abundantly clear. He found it inconvenient and sometimes frustrating, but dark witches were singled out all the time. At least here they didn’t call him evil to his face.

“I wasn’t going to agree with you,” Yoongi huffed. He was inwardly touched that Jimin cared so much, though that was something he didn’t plan on admitting. “C’mon, let’s just get out of here.”

Jimin narrowed his eyes. “Fine, but we’re not done talking about this.”

“Fine.” Yoongi continued up the steps, squeezing the hell out of his stress ball. That’s when two charms sailed over the railing from above and smacked wetly onto the floor.

“Jimin!”

The first charm sent ice crackling across the wet landing while the second exploded into a wash of sparkling, colored lights.

Yoongi dropped the ball, whipped his face away, and covered his eyes, but at Jimin’s surprised yelp, he forced himself to blink through the dazzling lights. A faint silhouette toppled backward, but Yoongi’s eyes were watering so bad that he couldn’t tell what happened. 

“Jimin? Jimin?”

Something heavy thudded to the floor. The lights slowly faded, leaving spots hovering in Yoongi’s vision and tears coursing down his cheeks. Jimin was nowhere to be seen.

Yoongi tripped down the first set of stairs, skidded across the icy landing, and caught himself on the wall. His eyes were still smarting, but he immediately noticed the familiar form crumpled at the bottom of the stairs. 

Everything froze for a second. He was overtaken by a roaring in his ears. His eyes were glued to Jimin’s unmoving body.

Unbeknownst to Yoongi, shocked eyes were peering at him from the top of the staircase as the ice melted in two uneven circles beneath his feet.

He leapt down half of the stairs in one bound and the second half in another, falling to his knees by Jimin’s side. Blood trailed down the other boy’s face, but it wasn’t a lot and it looked like he was still breathing.

Yoongi reached out a shaking hand, wanting to touch but unwilling to hurt him more. He barely noticed his own breath was coming in short gasps. “Jimin?” Something was bubbling and crackling inside him and Yoongi was afraid he was going to pass out. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jimin. The choking, suffocating feeling grew stronger.

How dare those stupid kids hurt Jimin like this? Picking on Yoongi was one thing, but despite his threats, Jimin hadn’t physically confronted anyone since middle school. He didn’t deserve this.

Coughs ripped themselves from Yoongi’s throat, a precursor to words or magic or sobs, he couldn’t tell. “Jimin! Wake up!” he croaked, throat burning.

The linoleum began to warp and soften around the two figures in a halo.

Two people tentatively edged down the stairs. Yoongi’s head snapped in their direction, like a hawk sighting two field mice. They were responsible for this. He glared up at their cowed expressions, teeth bared.

One of the boys steeled himself and took a small step toward Yoongi and Jimin.

That’s when everything exploded.

A huge shockwave of magic blasted in all directions with the dark witch in the middle. The boys on the stairs flew back and crashed into the wall by the landing. Huge swaths of hallway flooring cracked apart and every door within fifty feet slammed back and splintered. 

Teachers and administrators emerged like a swarm, their magic glowing a rainbow of unique colors. As they grew closer to Yoongi’s location, all of them slowed to a stop, and turned around, confused as to where exactly they were trying to go. When they got far enough away, they immediately remembered and tried to get to the source of the magic flooding the area, but their eyes and focus kept slipping away.

Every time Yoongi breathed out, snaky black tendrils of shadow leaked from his mouth like smoke. 

“Jimin.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the tears gathered at the corners to slide down his cheeks. He needed to get help, to take Jimin to the hospital. And he needed to get away from the people who caused this in the first place; they would no longer be allowed to get close to Jimin. 

The bubbly, sparking sensation in his chest was quickly spreading to his arms and legs. Yoongi imagined this was what it felt like to grab hold of a live wire. 

With a sound like a thunderclap, they disappeared. 

And reappeared about twenty feet from the front doors of the school. Jimin was on the ground in the exact same position, but Yoongi found himself six feet in the air with no way to keep himself there. The fall was short, but the landing painful. Either the impact jarred something loose in his head or the escape from the other students let him come down from fight or flight mode, because Yoongi became aware that that weird feeling was his magic and it was pouring out of him like a dam had been blown.

Teleportation should be impossible for him, not only because he had so little training and control, but because it was specific to the Location affinity. Yes, loc witches were technically part of the dark affinity, but most dark witches couldn’t perform loc spells, sages and demi-sages being an exception. Yoongi didn’t have the kind of power for a spell like that.

Spells took body energy to perform, so the question remained: how much would it cost him?

Yoongi fumbled his phone from his pocket and managed to dial 811, the number for urgent magical emergencies. The sight of black staining his fingertips almost startled him into dropping his phone, but he just took a few ragged breaths and tightened his grip. It was the first sign of a burnout, but that just meant he needed to make the call as quickly as possible. 

“Magical Emergencies, what is the problem?”

“Out…of control…shadow witch,” Yoongi choked. “Southwick Magical…can’t miss me.”

Indeed, they’d have to be dead to overlook the effects of his power. The bushes that flanked the entrance were shriveled into dried-out stumps, the cement was stained black in a starburst pattern where he fell, and the air was shimmering with half-realized images of dogs and teeth and bell towers, all crawling toward him. What a wonderful time for his one skill, illusion, to manifest. 

“A response team is being dispatched. We have already received three calls from your location. Are medical services required?”

Yoongi looked over at Jimin. “Head injury…fell down stairs. Maybe others.” He didn’t know if his magic hurt any of his classmates or teachers, but it was a distinct possibility. 

“Please remain calm, sir. Help is on the way. Try to settle your mind and control your breathing. Are you in an isolated area?”

All Yoongi could do was grunt. Nobody had emerged from the front doors, either because it wasn’t safe or they didn’t realize he was out there. He was thankful either way. “Burnout…close,” he forced out through gritted teeth. 

Indeed, his eyes were tingling and the soot-like darkness was climbing up his arms. The flood of magic wasn’t slowing down and his body was weakening. When his strength ran out, the magic would tap into his life force to channel itself, using him like a disposable antenna until he was scorched from the inside out. 

The operator finally sounded a little ruffled. Yoongi could hear him speaking away from the phone into what was probably a radio. “Response team, this is dispatch. Our dark witch is hemorrhaging at an accelerated rate and close to a burnout.”

“Acknowledged, dispatch. ETA two minutes.”

All sounds faded away while the bell towers lost their translucence, becoming as real-looking as the red brick of the school building. The dogs were black and twisted with dripping teeth and crushing jaws, dancing around them in a dizzying circle. The clocks, the clocks read midnight and the bells were tolling and he could see them lurching back and forth, but they were silent, silent, silent. He was burning and screaming and it was tearing his throat apart, but there was no sound. Jimin was in front of him, blink, two Jimins, blink, Jimins spread to the horizon, accusing in their still silence. “Not real.” His lips formed the words. “Not real, not real, not real.” The hot breath of the dogs ghosted across his throat and Jimin was staring at him, every single one. God, he was burning, on fire, dying…Jimin, STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT! 

And then Yoongi was doused in energy like a bucket of ice-cold water and the dogs, bell towers, and the deep tolling of the bells disappeared until only the school building and the real Jimin remained. 

It took Yoongi a second to realize he was curled in the fetal position, staring at Jimin’s shins. His cheek was ground into the cement, his clothes were soaked in sweat, and he had the migraine to end all migraines.

He groaned miserably and tried to uncurl, but a gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Yoongi, can you hear me?” The voice was unfamiliar, but kind and soothing even to his pounding head. 

“Mmwha?” A desert had nothing on his mouth and the volume of his own voice was a hot poker stabbing into his brain. 

“Good. Please don’t move. Your friend is okay. He has a bump on the head and a sprained wrist, but he’s a vitality witch, so he will heal quickly.”

Yoongi kept his eyes firmly shut. As curious as he was to know who was speaking, the sunlight would probably make him throw up. “What happened?” He’d win a gold medal in the “gargling with gravel” Olympic event. 

The hand never left his shoulder, providing a welcome point of contact to anchor him outside of his mind. The voice returned. “You were right; your magic was out of control and you were in the first stage of a burnout when we arrived. We’re all impressed you lasted that long, to be honest.” 

Yoongi wasn’t sure if that was a compliment, but he really didn’t have the energy to care.

“It took our whole team and then some to bind you, which is something we’re going to talk about later.”

Yoongi’s list of “things to talk about later” was growing. He’d have to start scheduling appointments. 

“Right now, you’re getting an express ride to the hospital, and no, this is not optional.”

The medical team gave him a warning before carefully lifting him onto a gurney and stowing him inside the ambulance. His last thought before passing out was Jimin should be pleased. Nobody at school was going to mess with him again.

By the time he was cleared to receive visitors, Yoongi was drugged up and hungry as hell. He was empty and exhausted, but they told him it would just have to fade with time. The seals, however, had to remain until they fell off on their own. It turned out the emergency binding of his power was done with intricately-drawn seals on small rectangles of paper that were slapped onto his chest, arms, legs, throat, and the back of his neck. He looked like a first-grade art project. 

A knock sounded on the door of his hospital room.

“Yeah, come in.”

A stranger poked his head in. “Hey, Yoongi. You up for talking? I won’t be long.”

Ah, the voice was familiar; it was the man from the response team who promised they’d chat later. Apparently later was now.

“Sure, come in.”

It was only when the man stepped fully inside that Yoongi recognized him. “…you’re -!”

\---

“We’ll talk again, Yoongi.” 

“Of course.” The shadow witch was still slightly dazed from the whole conversation.

His guest showed himself out, but someone else knocked on the door almost immediately. “Yeeeees?” Yoongi drawled. He was a popular guy, meaning he couldn’t get a second of real rest. 

The slight irritation at being bothered immediately evaporated when Jimin’s grinning face appeared in the doorway. 

He looked at Yoongi, then back down the hall and pointed. “Did I just see Sage Yongbae leave your room?”

Yoongi shrugged. “Yeah?”

“That’s all you have to say after a SAGE visited you in person? Did your brain get damaged during your magic freak out?” Jiming pointed more emphatically. “A sage. A sage! Sage Yongbae!”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Yes, I noticed. Shut up and get over here.” Thankfully, the vitality witch looked completely fine, other than his embarrassing fanboying. From what Yoongi heard, the hospital didn’t have to do anything except poke him a couple of times and tell him he was already in perfect health. 

Jimin pointed one more time before listening to Yoongi for once and coming over to stand by the head of the bed. His excitement over the sage rapidly faded into a somber, considering quiet. “How is that I’m the one who fell down the stairs, but you’re in the hospital?” The question was probably meant to be light-hearted, but Jimin’s expression was pinched and his shoulders were heavy. He ran gentle fingers over the seal on Yoongi’s neck.

Their eyes met. Jimin didn’t pull away and Yoongi didn’t say anything.

The moment of tension passed when the corner of Yoongi’s mouth quirked up in an almost invisible smile. Jimin breathed out and trailed a finger over his collarbone and down to the seal on the dark witch’s left bicep. He smoothed the crumpled paper out pressed it flat into Yoongi’s skin while the other man watched. Jimin’s questing finger continued down, down, across his forearm, over the pulse in his wrist, and stopped in the center of his palm. 

Yoongi closed his hand around Jimin’s finger before he could pull away and maneuvered until their hands were clasped together. The vitality witch bashfully looked away, but squeezed Yoongi’s hand all the same. 

Yoongi relaxed into his pillows. Now he had everything he needed. 

Eventually, Jimin pulled up a chair so they could hold hands more comfortably. Nobody else came to bother them, so they rested in a mix of silence and quiet conversation.

“Nobody at school will pick on me after this,” Yoongi offered, waiting for Jimin’s reaction. “You won’t have to punch anyone again.”

Jimin didn’t do anything for a moment. Then he sighed heavily and gave Yoongi a look. “I’m glad, but I’ll never be happy that you were out of control; you could’ve really been hurt.” He tickled Yoongi’s palm with his finger. 

Yoongi tried to subtly pull his hand away, but it was trapped. He tried to squish Jimin’s finger into submission instead. “Well…if you promise not to fall down any more stairs, I promise not to unleash my hell powers on the unsuspecting student population.”

Of course, that made Jimin narrow his eyes and scoot his chair closer. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You don’t have hell powers. You’re one of the most badass and kind witches out there and I know you wouldn’t hurt anyone on purpose.”

“You’re going to scold me into high self-esteem?”

“If I have to,” Jimin promised. He slumped over their hands and pressed the back of Yoongi’s to his forehead. “I was so worried about you, idiot.”

It took Yoongi a good minute to wrestle his emotions back under control.

Jimin fidgeted in his chair and for a frightening second, Yoongi was afraid he was getting up to leave. “Please don’t go!” he blurted out.

The vitality witch instantly stilled and squeezed Yoongi’s hand. “I’m not going anywhere, ever. I promise. Well, maybe to the bathroom, but…”

Yoongi tightened his grip on Jimin’s hand as hard as he could as punishment for being a sassy little shit, but he also cracked a smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”

\---

It took a week and a half for Yoongi’s magical energy to return to an acceptable level. Jimin walked him to school on his first day back, ignored his classes, and doggedly followed the shadow witch to every single one of his classes. He simply pretended he couldn’t hear the few teachers who tried to kick him out and they all gave up eventually. 

The stairwell where the “prank” took place was roped off until further notice. It turned out that the see-me-not charm Yoongi accidentally cast during the incident was so strong that none of the teachers or administrators could break it. The school was expecting a visit from one of the Sages, but it was anybody’s guess if the charm was removable at all. 

The sidewalk in front of the school remained tattooed with the black starburst pattern from Yoongi’s fall, a constant and public reminder of not only his power, but the consequences of pushing a witch too far. A shocking statistic showed all incidents of bullying and harassment at Southwick Magical Academy dropping to almost nothing and remaining that way for months.

In regard to Yoongi’s control issues, well, during Affinity Control on his first day back, Jimin sat scooched next to Yoongi as close as he could get. Mr. Park told Jimin he was more than welcome and even dragged an extra chair over so they could sit together. 

They both stared down at the clematis root.

“You can do this,” Jimin assured him. He bumped Yoongi’s shoulder in a show of solidarity.

Yoongi thought, _If you’re next to me, I can do anything,_ but didn’t dare say it out loud. Instead, he placed a finger on the thickest root, closed his eyes, and focused. Ambient magic flowed around him in waves and spirals. He breathed it, felt it wash around Jimin in warm eddies. It was smooth and willing in a way it never had been before. _Come_ , he mentally called, _Come work with me._

“Yoongi!” someone whispered. “Yoongi!” A hand urgently shook his shoulder.

Yoongi’s eyes snapped open. His jaw dropped at the sight of the clematis root emitting a steady aura of shadow magic. He grabbed Jimin’s arm. “…I did it.”

“You did it!” Jimin repeated, smile growing larger by the second. 

Yoongi erupted from his chair, sending it screeching back, and threw a triumphant fist into the air.

“I DID IT!”

The sound of his voice echoed down the hallway, underlaid with the tolling of a bell.


End file.
